<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ainsley Whitly, Wingwoman Extraordinaire by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168863">Ainsley Whitly, Wingwoman Extraordinaire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys'>holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>PSon Fluff Bingo [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Episode: s01e05 The Trip, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, PSon Fluff Bingo, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Wingwoman Ainsley Whitly, hint of Ainsley/Dani</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:20:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm has had a crush on Gil for <i>years</i>.</p>
<p>Ainsley takes an opportunity to move things along. It helps that she and her brother have a telepathic bond.</p>
<p>(For the square "Telepathic Sibling Connection" on my fluff bingo card.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright &amp; Ainsley Whitly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>PSon Fluff Bingo [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ainsley Whitly, Wingwoman Extraordinaire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm remembers the moment he knew his younger sibling would be a sister. His mother and father didn’t tell him — they didn’t know themselves.</p>
<p>No, <em>Ainsley </em>was the one to let him know. She wasn’t much but a curious little presence at the time, something that hummed at the edges of his mind for weeks before developing an aura that felt distinctly like <em>girl, sister. </em></p>
<p>He was immediately enamoured. At the time, he was too young to understand how their connection worked. His parents both indulged him whenever he talked about it, too, figuring it was some sort of fantasy he developed after finding out he would be a brother, and so they weren’t terribly helpful. Not that that stopped him. Malcolm spent as many afternoons curled up against his mother and her bump as he could, his head filled with all of the experiences he wanted to share with the baby that always tapped back at his palms with her little feet and fists. </p>
<p>By the time Malcolm made the call and sent their father away in cuffs, he’d learned to control it. Somewhat. He could keep the darker parts of his mind away from hers most days.</p>
<p>On the worst nights, Ainsley woke up screaming at the same time he did. </p>
<p>(Malcolm practically begged their mother to send him to boarding school in the end, if only in the hopes that distance would lessen the bond.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>What’s up? </em>
</p>
<p>Hearing the familiar voice in his head, Malcolm’s angry stride softens. Of course she must have felt his frustration, devastation. <em>Nothing much</em>, he quips. <em>Just got fired from the only job I’ve ever been good at.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>WHAT?</em>
</p>
<p>He winces. <em>I may have punched a sheriff.</em> He hails a cab and pulls up the website for the moving services he used when he left New York. </p>
<p>There’s a burst of something like bubbles, something light and giddy in the back of his head. <em>Way to go, bro.</em> The bubbles dissipate. <em>I know you had your reasons.</em></p>
<p>Clicking on the contact page, Malcolm types out a quick email to the company and then shuts off his phone. <em>My reasons didn’t stop them from firing me.</em> </p>
<p>
  <em>You know, maybe this is a sign. You could live like the rich, eccentric man you are.</em>
</p>
<p><em>Maybe I’ll buy a show dog,</em> he thinks, lips twitching. <em>Or a winery. </em></p>
<p><em>Ha, ha.</em> The two syllables are dry, and he can practically see the deadpan expression on her face.</p>
<p><em>You can convince me otherwise in person in… two days. </em>D.C. doesn’t have anything for him anymore. Just stress. Regret. He might as well go back to New York and brave the memories. At least if he can handle them, he’ll have Ainsley, their mother, and — and Gil.</p>
<p><em>Am I going to see you first or does that pleasure go to our favorite lieutenant? </em>she teases, correctly and irritatingly guessing just why his end of the connection went mushy for a moment. </p>
<p>Closing his eyes, Malcolm visualizes himself sticking his tongue out at her.</p>
<p>Predictably, he gets a similar image in return. </p>
<p>He smiles. <em>I’ll let you know when I arrive.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Being in the same city feels electrifying. Every fiber of their connection lights up, strengthening with each step they take towards each other. Malcolm’s shoulders ease. His lips curl, and it actually matches his mood.</p>
<p>Actually standing next to her is a completely different experience. He’s — she’s — <em>they’re </em>complete again. It’s right. She wraps her arms around him tight, but he barely even notices, much too distracted by the way their minds slot together properly for the first time in years. </p>
<p>God, he’s missed this. </p>
<p><em>Don’t cry</em>, she thinks. “You’re going to make <em>me </em>cry,” she says.</p>
<p>“Too late.” His eyes sting, but it’s good. <em>Sorry, Ains.</em></p>
<p>“I’ll forgive you if you buy me a coffee,” she murmurs into his shoulder.</p>
<p>Which is how they end up walking through the park, arms close enough to brush with every step or two, hot coffees in their hands. Half of their conversation is mental, half spoken aloud. That always spooked their mother, but it’s how they’ve worked since before Ainsley could talk. The alternative is silence, and both of them know their mother would be even more uncomfortable with that. </p>
<p>Gil, however, takes it in stride. For him, it’s just another of Malcolm’s quirks, and none of those have ever stopped him from smiling warmly. From <em>accepting </em>Malcolm. </p>
<p><em>He’s totally checking you out, bro, </em>Ainsley tells him as Malcolm melts into the older man’s arms. </p>
<p>It takes all of his effort not to stiffen in the embrace. <em>Ains!</em></p>
<p>
  <em>He is!</em>
</p>
<p><em>He hasn’t seen me in years,</em> Malcolm throws back. <em>He’s probably still mourning Jackie anyway.</em></p>
<p>She gives him the mental equivalent of a flippant wave. <em>Love isn’t a once in a lifetime deal, you know.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t get my hopes up. Please.</em>
</p>
<p>Ainsley pulls back immediately, no new words coming through though their connection thrums with a soothing apology.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank you. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She keeps quiet about his crush for a few weeks, thankfully. It helps that he manages to hold back on some of his off-the-cuff thoughts about Gil now that he’s expecting to see him, work with him. The ones that do slip through net him a blip of amusement but nothing more. </p>
<p>Being showered with drugs, unfortunately, destroys any bit of control he’s developed. </p>
<p><em>So soft,</em> Malcolm thinks dreamily.</p>
<p>The sensation in the back of his head is almost a wind-up, as if he could actually feel the way her brow raises despite being across the city. <em>What’s soft?</em></p>
<p>“I think I’ve always had a crush on you,” he says, staring directly into Gil’s warm eyes. <em>His goatee. I wonder how it would feel against my</em> —</p>
<p>
  <em>Bro!</em>
</p>
<p>— <em>face.</em> </p>
<p>“Kid,” Gil blurts out. “You’re high.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Did you take something?</em>
</p>
<p>“A bag of cocaine exploded in my face. Of course I’m high.” Malcolm pouts as Gil gently maneuvers him into a taxi.</p>
<p>
  <em>Malcolm!</em>
</p>
<p>“It’s okay, Ains.” Squinting, he shakes his head and tries again. <em>Gil says I’m high. It’s okay.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Clearly not! Do you need me to pick you up?</em>
</p>
<p>Dani gives him an odd look but joins him in the back regardless, sighing when Gil gives the driver the address of the loft.</p>
<p><em>I’m going home with Dani, </em>he tells her cheerfully. <em>I wonder if she knows how to waltz…</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they arrive, Ainsley is waiting for them at the door, tapping her foot impatiently. Of course, she knew roughly when Malcolm would arrive. She could feel him getting closer. She smiles flatly at Dani. “You must be Dani. I’m Ainsley. You can go home now.”</p>
<p>Dani bristles. “Gil asked me to watch over him.”</p>
<p>“Tell him my sister took over,” Malcolm says, practically hopping over to Ainsley and spinning her into a hug. “I missed you.”</p>
<p>“I saw you this morning,” Ainsley reminds him. Giving Dani a more genuine smile this time, she herds him towards the door. “If Gil gives you shit, have him call me!”</p>
<p>Malcolm snickers as they climb the steps together. <em>You think she’s pretty.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>I have a boyfriend, you know.</em>
</p>
<p>“You could have a girlfriend, too,” he says before quickly getting distracted by Sunshine. </p>
<p>Ainsley sighs. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s making grilled cheese when Gil arrives later that night. He looks surprised to see her. “I sent your detective home,” she explains, going back to the slightly over-toasted sandwich. “I guess she didn’t tell you.”</p>
<p>“Where is he?”</p>
<p>“Asleep.” After she grabbed him by the head and forcibly shocked him out of his nightmare using their connection. Not that Gil needs to know that. “You can take the couch, if you want. It’s comfortable.”</p>
<p>Gil stalls.</p>
<p>“I, for one, would love to sleep in my own bed,” she says pointedly. “You came over to check on him, right?”</p>
<p>Gil nods. “I’ll stay.”</p>
<p>Wrapping her sandwich in a paper towel, Ainsley grabs her purse and gets ready to leave. She stops at the door. “Listen to him in the morning, Gil. He wasn’t lying earlier.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Malcolm stills as he wakes up. He can hear movement in the apartment, but Ainsley isn’t close. <em>Ains?</em></p>
<p><em>It’s Gil</em>, she says sleepily. <em>Tell him about your big fat crush, bro. </em></p>
<p>Then the connection is dimmed, likely because she rolled over and went back to sleep. </p>
<p>Malcolm gets up cautiously. </p>
<p>In the kitchen, Gil is scrambling eggs. He startles when he looks up. “Hey, kid.”</p>
<p>“Hey.” </p>
<p>Gil plates the eggs silently. He sighs. “About yesterday…”</p>
<p>Yesterday, when he put a hand on Gil’s face. When he confessed his crush. Malcolm feels his heart drop. </p>
<p>“Your sister told me you were telling the truth.” </p>
<p>Malcolm hesitantly looks up. There’s something cautious in Gil’s eyes, but there’s no rejection. He nods. </p>
<p>“Is it hero worship?”</p>
<p>“God, no,” Malcolm blurts out. “Maybe at first. Gil, I —”</p>
<p>Gil moves forward. </p>
<p>Malcolm stares.</p>
<p>Then his brain short circuits as Gil puts a hand on his face in a mirror of what happened the night before. “Stop me if I go too far.”</p>
<p>Their lips meet. Malcolm melts into him eagerly, a soft moan muffled between them.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ew, Malcolm! Mute yourself next time!</em>
</p>
<p>He can’t help the smile that takes over his face or the chuckle that builds up in his chest. </p>
<p>Gil huffs good-naturedly. “I hope that’s not aimed at me, kid.”</p>
<p>“I’ll explain later,” Malcolm says and leans in again.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>